


Dancing Queen

by iluvzuzu



Series: Second by Second [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iluvzuzu/pseuds/iluvzuzu
Summary: Recounting the tale of Lily Evans' seventeenth birthday and everything James Potter may or may not have planned for it.





	Dancing Queen

For Lily’s sixteenth birthday, the Head Girl, Jane McKinnon, had thrown Lily a really wonderful party. Except for some tame drinking, it was all really above board and by all accounts a very good time. Jane’s younger sister Claire was in Lily’s year, but Lily had been closer to Jane through prefect duties and tutoring. She was a Hufflepuff, a sweet girl who always strove to be inclusive and compassionate, a guiding force to other students. At times, Lily found herself wishing Jane had been her sister instead of Petunia, or that she could have Claire’s life instead of her own. It was a silly thought, though, and she always dismissed it. She did love Tuney, and her parents, difficult though they often were. Even at that party, she’d felt a little overwhelmed by the kindness of everyone there, who all seemed to adore her though she felt she’d done nothing to deserve it. She ended up sneaking away with Severus, whom she really only saw in secret at this point, to eat little cakes by the lake in the darkness and poke fun at the fourth year boys who’d been fawning over Lily at her party. 

“They’re  _ sweet _ ,” Lily had defended, her grin partially a cringe. 

“Only because they think they’ve got a shot,” Severus said, clearly trying to sound offhanded and failing. “You must know, Lily, those boys wouldn’t be half as kind if they knew you’d never go for them.”

Lily frowned. He’d been saying a lot of things like that lately. Well, he’d been saying things like that ever since she’d known him, usually where James Potter was concerned, but they seemed more serious now that they were practically grown up. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t know how Severus felt about her, but at that point, she hadn’t quite decided how she felt about him, so she’d always pretended she had no idea. It was easier that way. Lily never put much stock in sorting as a personality marker, but she had to agree that no Slytherin would ever confess their love first. She said to him, “You really believe that? That no one would be kind if they didn’t want something in return?”

Severus looked at her, then, his dark eyes intense, his brow firm. “Everyone wants something. Everyone.”

Lily breathed in shakily. She knew she shouldn’t say it, but then, she was a Gryffindor. “Even you?”

Severus scowled out at the lake, and murmured, “Of course.” She stood, nodding to herself, considering this. He said, “Lily—” and she said, “No, it’s alright. I understand. Thank you for the cake.” And left him there, not knowing if he was watching her go because she didn’t turn around. 

Much had changed in a year. A new rash of disappearances in historically mixed villages (that is, villages where Muggles and Wizards had lived for centuries with relative knowledge of each other) had cropped up just before New Year’s. Many teachers had banned the use of Muggle pens in their classrooms, insisting that quills and ink were the traditional way of writing at Hogwarts; Professor Billard even said she would refuse to grade any assignments if they were done in ballpoint. The students were all assured this had nothing to do with the faculty being anti-Muggle, it was simply that students were all expected to use the required materials. Strangest of all, though on a more positive note, was that this year Lily had fallen in with the so-called Marauders. 

“You call yourselves the Marauders?” Lily snorted. “Is that not on the nose?”

“No,” Peter said defensively from the ottoman on which he sat. “It’s not on the nose to be accurate!”

“Sure,” Lily smirked. She was sitting on the arm of James’s chair, feeling the exhilarating soul-soaring feeling of potential buzzing over the two of them, the five of them. “Whose idea was that, then? Surely an eleven-years-old Sirius?”

Peter cackled and James laughed too, turning his face to smile up at her. Remus, who was sitting in an armchair with Sirius at his feet, nudged the boy with his toe, grinning. “She’s got you, Padfoot,” he said. “No more pretending that you’re misunderstood.”

“We do spend quite a lot of our time marauding,” Sirius sniffed, now fully committed to mocking his own pride. “As Wormtail said, it’s accurate.” 

“And are you ever going to explain to me your absurd little nicknames, or am I meant to figure it out for myself?” Lily asked. “Because you know I will.”

“I assumed you already knew,” Remus said airily, and Sirius let out a “Hah!” at this. 

“You’re behind, Evans,” James teased. “If you’re going to be our official biographer, the clock is ticking on your muckraking.” 

“Well I’ve heard the rumors,” Lily said, knowing it was dangerous territory to bring it up, but loving feeling dangerous. “I suppose only time will tell if they’re true.” At Remus’s guarded expression, she winked and smiled softly.

“Oh!” Sirius cheered. “Now she’s got you, Moony! Merlin, Lily, Prongs was right about you all these years.”

“Oh?” Lily inquired, looking down at James with her eyebrow quirked. “And what was he right about?”

James had turned pink and seemed speechless. “Only good things,” he said, almost smoothly. They all roared with laughter at his embarrassment. Sitting there, perched above James, next to Peter, across from Sirius who was leaning on Remus, Lily felt the strangest warmth wash over her. She didn’t want to question it; she just wanted to feel like this always. 

But there was a jolt in her stomach that forced her to. “Listen, it’s been lovely,” she told the boys, “but there are essays to write, and apparently they’ve got to be in quill now or they’re disqualified. So I’m off to work on my handwriting!” 

They all cooed assorted goodbyes at her, but as she was about to leave with her bag James called across the common room, “Lily Evans! Is it not your birthday tomorrow?”

Several people whooped, not least of all Sirius and Peter. Lily grinned. “It might be. Why?”

“You ought to finish your coursework now, is all I’m saying,” he said. “I reckon tomorrow could be an exciting night.” He winked, and Lily felt the electricity of it all zap across the room and straight into her chest. She ducked her head and left for the library, hoping the solitude would also bring her peace. 

The last few weeks since Christmas had been the quickest and most charged of Lily’s life. She didn’t even have the grace to be embarrassed when Mary teased her for spending all her time with the boys; she was too thrilled to be on the team. The  _ Pure Scum  _ on the foreheads of her assailants had hardly faded, which Lily both relished and feared. On the one hand, they were semi-permanently outed as Purists, but on the other hand, some of the others in Slytherin house were beginning to reclaim the term for themselves. “If I’m scum just for having pride in my heritage, then fine, scum I am!” Brenton Rowle had proclaimed loudly at dinner one of the first nights back from the holidays, to the applause and approval of the other Slytherins at his table. Avery and Mulciber were all too pleased to be martyrs to the cause, and went out of their way to try to embarrass Lily at any opportunity. Luckily, this phase didn’t last long with the Marauders on her side. They and the other Pure Scum had been cut down in every area of their lives, from the state of their skin to their academic performance to their punctuality to their hand-eye coordination. Lily knew it was James’ and the boys’ doing, but she didn’t want to ask lest she become implicated herself. When had her morals become so loose? Since there’d been a war on, she supposed. What good were morals to her if the opposition had none?

The morning of her birthday passed by in a blur; the girls in her dormitory all gave her little presents—sweets, books, cards and the like. Since it was a Sunday, she’d woken up late and only made it into the Great Hall in time for lunch. 

“Ah,” said Sirius Black, immediately descending on her as she sat down at the Gryffindor table. “Here’s duchess. Happy Birthday, Evans!” He was smirking, then, suddenly, he was setting down a large chocolate cake in front of her. She wasn’t even sure where it had come from, if he’d conjured it, if someone else had, or if he’d gotten extremely good at sleight of hand. 

“Why, thank you, Monsieur Black,” she said flamboyantly, making a flourish with her hand as she bowed. 

Sirius grinned. “Don’t thank me, thank the elves,” he said mysteriously, and bowed, moving down the aisle and out of the hall. 

Lily laughed delightedly as she observed the cake. “Who wants to help me eat this!” she called out. Several people from several different houses came to join her—it was as delicious as it looked. She was surprised to note that none of the other Marauders were there; a shame, since she’d heard Remus, in particular, loved chocolate. 

After her cake lunch, she decided to study by the fire in the common room. It was rather crowded, being a snowy weekend day, but she managed to find a place to sit by the window. She was nodding off when something pointy in her skull stabbed her awake. “Ow—what in—Peter?”

Peter Pettigrew was grinning sheepishly over her. “Sorry, Lily,” he said with a little grin. “I was trying to be surreptitious but—” he shrugged helplessly, still smiling as he scurried away.

Lily lifted her hands to her head to find a flimsy tiara sitting there, a bright “17” blazing in the center and enchanted rhinestones set into it. “My word,” she said, because it was both beautiful and stupid.  _ Just like my Marauders _ , she thought to herself, unable to resist smiling at the thought.

Not long after this, Remus approached her and asked if she’d like to go to the library and study with him. “Ah, is it your turn to sweep me away?” she asked. 

“Hmm?” Remus said. “Oh, sure,” he added, as though he’d forgotten all about it. “It’s your birthday, I forgot. I just knew you were the one who spoke the most about the principles behind the element Conjuration spells.” 

Lily, never one to turn down the opportunity to discuss Transfiguration principles, opted to believe the ruse and go with Remus to the library. She’d nearly forgotten she was still wearing the tiara until she caught Remus speaking to her above her eye line for the third time, a practiced indifference scarcely hiding the amused look on his face. 

She took it off with an embarrassed laugh and said, “I’d forgotten it.”

“No, leave it on,” Remus insisted. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I’d have been staring, too,” she mused. “If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be proudly wearing some trinket bestowed upon me by the Marauders…”

He smiled in a relaxed, content sort of way, words Lily had never thought to associate with Remus Lupin, and said, “They have a way of getting under your skin.”

“You all do,” she admitted. 

His smile widened, genuinely looking humble. “Thank you. Lily—” he paused, his moment of serenity fading into something a little more Remus-like, something that creased his forehead and sent his gaze somewhere far away. “I hope you know what it means to him.”

She swallowed the fluttering in her stomach. “I do,” she said, only realizing it fully as she said it. 

He nodded. “I thought you did.” His face softened once more into a smile, which quickly became a mischievous grin. “Come on. I’m meant to keep you here at least until dinner.” 

They did genuinely work on their coursework together for the next several hours, Sirius coming by at some point to annoy and distract Remus, first by magically flipping his books closed, then by actually worming his way between Remus and the table and forcing him to play some rigged form of monkey in the middle to get his parchment back (Lily didn’t think Remus minded.)

When it became clear that Lily and Remus were done studying whether they liked it or not, Sirius led the way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Peter was already seated at the Gryffindor table waiting for them. 

“You’ve still got the tiara!” he exclaimed upon seeing Lily, who had indeed put the thing back on her head the moment she saw him.

“Of course,” she smiled. “A girl only becomes a lady once.” 

As they ate, Lily couldn’t help but feel the anxiety building in her stomach at the fact that she hadn’t seen James all day, which meant that whatever he was planning was probably going to make itself known when she returned from dinner. Apart from the nerves, though, she found herself almost disappointed that his preparations, which were supposed to be in her honour, had just kept him away from her all day.

Merlin, how times had changed. 

Peter was bouncing off the walls on the way back up to Gryffindor Tower, chatting Lily’s ear off about Pro Quidditch, while Sirius and Remus bickered joyously two steps behind them. She enjoyed the sounds of them all, her mind fuzzing out their words but capturing their voices, how Peter was so eager, Sirius so suave, Remus lilting and pleased. Years later, she would remember them this way in painful pangs in times when they became men so unlike themselves—or rather, men too much like their worst selves. When Sirius would grow bitter and cruel, when Remus would grow weary and apathetic, when Peter would grow timid and desperate, she would choose to think of them like this instead. 

Finally, the entrance to the Gryffindor common room was upon them. Remus gave the password to the Fat Lady’s portrait, and she let them in graciously. Upon entering, Lily found that the common room had been transformed into an elegant lounge reminiscent of a photograph Lily had seen once of the lobby of an upscale ski lodge, but more intimate. Winter boughs and berries adorned the walls, and floating baubles along with the large fireplace gave the room a soft, golden glow. Many students wore robes much nicer than their usual school uniforms, and many of them raised glasses of what looked like champagne and greeted her or cheered as they saw her enter. 

Then, at the top of the boys’ staircase, James Potter appeared. Everyone in the room went quiet, waiting for him to speak. He laughed when eyes all fell on him, as if delighted that it took no effort at all on his part to command the attention of four dozen people. Looking right at Lily, he raised his own glass and said, “Our brilliant, winsome, remarkable Prefect on her seventeenth birthday. She keeps us safe, she keeps us sane, and, most importantly, she never snitches on the good parties. To Lily Evans!” 

The crowd cheered, “To Lily Evans!” Someone handed Lily a glass of champagne and she laughed as she toasted herself, and drank. Someone else put on a record that Lily recognized as a Muggle band, something Scandinavian with a dance beat which several students seemed to know the words to. She got swept into dance and conversation, feeling the negativity of the last few months wash away as she was surrounded by friends, most from Gryffindor but some snuck in from other houses, some of them Pureblood and some of them Muggleborn, all of them here celebrating the coincidence of her birth. It had never really struck Lily until that moment that perhaps she was someone important. She’d always strived to be exceptional, but until tonight, it had never occurred to her that she really was. She was respected, she was admired. she was loved. 

She spotted James Potter across the room and made her way towards him. He smiled upon seeing her approach, a smile that was restrained in the lips but on fire in the eyes. “Evans,” he said, as gently as the room’s volume would permit. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she told him. “This whole day has been—so unexpected, so… exciting. I can’t say how much I appreciate it.”

“Ah, the lads helped,” he said almost gruffly, ruffling the back of his hair with one hand. 

“I know,” she said with a smile. “I’ll thank them, too. But this, from you, James, I—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “Thank you.”

“When you’ve got a minute, I’ve got something for you,” he said. “Not right now, just—when you’ve got a minute.” He smiled mysteriously and dismissed himself to go talk to a fifth year she thought might have been a distant cousin of his. She watched him with them all, how easily he spoke, how attentive he was when others did. She used to think of him as arrogant, prideful, snobbish, even, but she realized now that these were the unfortunate youthful flip sides to growing up so magnificent; he really was everything he thought of himself. Handsome, intelligent, talented, charming. And now, against all odds, he had also become mature and grounded, almost humble. Perhaps he, too, was someone exceptional. 

The party was hardly winding down, but two more glasses of champagne and a shot of Firewhisky in and Lily was finding the crowd a little more stifling than welcoming. She scanned the room once more for James, who caught her eye the moment she saw him. He gave a little nod indicating that she should meet him at the stairs. Wordlessly, they ascended to the boys’ dormitories together, his hand guiding her lightly by the small of her back. 

By the fiery magical light from the torches on the walls of the outside corridor, James pulled a small box from his pocket. “It’s not much,” he said preemptively. 

“You’ve already thrown me a beautiful party,” she answered gently. “It doesn’t  _ have  _ to be much.”

She took the box from his hand, their fingers brushing, and opened it slowly. Out danced an impossibly tiny silver couple, both wearing dress robes and waltzing in minuscule circles around her palm. She gasped watching them, at their poise, their care, how they were two unique personalities that moved as one entity. 

“It’s just an old pendant that I Charmed,” he said, cheeks looking distinctly pink. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do,” she said, misty eyes still on the dancing miniature couple. “It’s lovely, James, it’s really—wow.” She looked up at him, and he, too, lifted his eyes from the dancers to meet hers. “Thank you,” she murmured, suddenly feeling absurdly shy. 

“I meant what I said when I toasted, Evans,” he said, voice low like dark honey. “I think you’re—Lily, you’re remarkable.”

She whispered, “James,” and lifted a hand to his cheek. They remained like that for a moment, and Lily found herself thinking, almost like a mantra,  _ kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.  _

But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back, took her hand from his face, and held it softly in his hand. “Ah,” he said. “Not yet.” At the look on her face, he chuckled. “I want you to be really, really sure it’s what you want, is all.”

She laughed in disbelief, and he laughed with her. “Alright,” she agreed softly. “Not yet.” His eyes fell back to the dancers in her palm, looking pensive and downcast. “But soon,” she added, and his eyes flickered up to meet hers again. 

“Soon,” he repeated with a solid, single nod and a slowly widening smile. They both watched for a moment as her fingers fiddled the couple back into their box and slip it into her own pocket. “Come on, then,” he said, taking her hand again. “You’ve still got the tail end of a party to enjoy.”

Following him back down the stairs, she returned coyly, “Then you should enjoy it with me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> kms i literally wrote the first half of this to be posted in time for Lily's actual birthday this year (January 30...) and obviously... it took me eleven months to finish it. BUT HEY i did it. hope you like :)


End file.
